


The  Blue Bird

by Cinnabal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Assassin AU, Assassin Castiel, Bottom Dean, Cafe Owner Dean, Fluff, John Wick Verse, M/M, Smut, The Whole Holy Trinity, Top Cas, Top Sam, there's a lot of death and blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 17:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14383536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnabal/pseuds/Cinnabal
Summary: Castiel, a feared and notorious assassin in the crime world falls in love with a cafe owner, Dean Winchester who once saved him. But when Castiel wants to retire the criminal world, a bounty is placed not into his head but on Dean Winchester’s that triggered a war between two known dangerous crime families who set their eyes on Dean and Sam Winchester.





	The  Blue Bird

**Author's Note:**

> There's supposed to be a photo but I didn't know how so suffaaaaa

**The Blue Bird**

**Chapter One: My Wayward Son**

Castiel skillfully eliminated his target’s bodyguards one by one without sustaining a serious injury and tracked his target in a stuffed closet. He eliminates him immediately, without a hitch and left towards the door of the once crowded bar. A woman whom, he was familiar with that wore all black clothing of suit and a matching black hat smiled at him. She extended her hand, and Castiel placed three gold coins equivalent of the three dead bodies, he assassinated.  

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Castiel.” The woman said, tilting her hat fashionably.

Castiel simply nodded and left, driving his black Ford Mustang Mach 1 car. As he gripped his steering wheel, Castiel grabbed his black flip phone, pressed speed dial zero and automatically a person answered after one ring.

“Customer Service, how may I assist?” A female-voiced replied in a monotonous manner and followed with a brief pause. “Mr. Castiel.”  

“A confirmation of my efforts, if you may,” Castiel replied, as he slowly turned his car towards a fancy hotel.

“Of course, Mrs, Naomi has successfully transferred three million in your account. Would that be all, Mr. Castiel?”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” Castiel said, and hung up. He looked at his phone and a text containing serial numbers of his account and the amount that was recently transferred. The message disappeared after thirty seconds and Castiel flips his phone off and stuffed it back into the pocket of his dirty trench coat.

He pulled over on a valet of the five-star hotel with a fancy fountain that has koi fish swimming around.

“Welcome to the Continental. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” The valet boy said, with a smile on his face.

Castiel didn’t say a word as he turned off the car, grabbed his small black suitcase in the front seat and got off the car. He handed the valet his car keys and a twenty dollar cash as a tip. The valet boy smiled, brightly at him as Castiel pass by.

The guard opened the glass door and greeted him, with a courteous nod.

Castiel didn’t say a word and continued to head towards the receptionist. The hotel lives into Castiel’s expectation of what a five-star hotel was. The floor and walls were made of marbles, the ceiling was decorated with sophisticated paintings of angels and demons. Men and women from the high society that sat nearby the bar looked at him, warily. As he walked further towards the receptionist,  a familiar face stopped his tracks. Meg Masters, a known female assassin that worked under a member of the High Table, stood in front of the receptionist. She wore her clothes differently but with confidences, unlike others. She wore a black leather jacket, black v shirt that displays his breast quite well, tight black jeans and leather boots.

She looked at behind her, noticing Castiel presence and quickly acknowledging him.

“Clarence!” Meg greeted, with ecstatic tone. “How nice to see you.”

“Meg.” Castiel greeted, with a nod. “It’s Castiel.”

“Whatever you say, Clarence.” She replied, grinning as she took her card number and winked at him. She gave him a lustful look as she walked away from him.

Castiel stepped forward, sliding a gold coin towards the receptionist.

“Indra.” Castiel greeted, at the dark-skinned gentleman who wore a silver suit.

“Castiel.” Indra greeted back. “How may I help you today?”

“I’d like a room, please.”

Indra nodded, taking the gold coin and dropped it on a special drawer in his counter.

“A moment, please,” Indra replied as he typed on his computer. He looked back at Castiel and spoke. “It seems Mrs. Naomi has paid one night in a suite in our fine establishment and she’d like you to consider this as a gift. Would you consider this, Mr. Castiel?”

“No,” Castiel replied, without a pause. “I’d like a normal room as soon as possible if you can.”

“Of course,” Indra nodded and quickly typed on his keyboard. A moment later, he slid Castiel a keycard.

“Thank you,” Castiel replied.

“Enjoy your stay at the Continental, Mr. Castiel,” Indra said, as soon as Castiel turned his back around.

As soon as Castiel settled in his hotel room that had a queen-sized bed, a shower, and a small closet. He immediately took off the current suit, he was wearing and sent it the cleaners. He grabbed his extra in the suitcase, he brought. He opened the secret compartment in his suitcase that revealed two handguns and a knife. He quickly tucked his two handguns in his shoulder holsters, two magazines in his belt, and the knife in his right sleeve.

His flip phone, buzzed in his pocket that halted Castiel plans for the night. Castiel flipped it open and an announcement was sent. A two million bounty on a Russian mobster that was requested to be dead in the morning. Castiel re-read the information regarding the target again and flipped his phone off. He grabbed his trenchcoat and left the room. This is what Castiel always do every day of his life the moment he drove deep into the criminal world.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean Winchester suffered greatly at the hands of his father. John Winchester was an abusive father. It took years for Dean to finally admit it to his little brother, Sam Winchester that he was right. He followed his father like a lost puppy, waiting for his approval but all he had gotten was a heavy beating. He gave everything to protect Sam from the beatings to the point, he refused to tell where the black eye and swollen lips came from when they were young. Some days, John would drag the brothers in camping, and forced them to train like soldiers like what John used to be. He was a decorated Marine Corp soldier and Dean believed, he was truly a good man till his wife was murdered and set their house on fire, almost killing the whole family.

After that eventful day, John was just lost. Always lost. And when he died of a liver failure. Dean still didn’t feel free. He was still afraid that he hid it with alcohol and one night stands. For most days, he would work on a car in their Uncle’s junk shop and some days, Dean just couldn’t take it.

But when Sam got into Stanford, Dean never felt prouder. The little brother, he protected and became basically a parent to him was going to pursue a higher education. But the problem was money. It was always money.

Their Uncle Bobby used to be the cafe owner but gave it to Dean as he wanted to retire and spend his days covered in the grease of the cars and books of his interest. Dean did everything to keep the cafe up and running while supporting Sam’s fees. He worked from five in the morning, open the cafe by eight and closed by ten and sleep around by twelve after throwing the trash in the dumpster.

As Dean tiredly dragged the third wretched trash bag in the dumpster. He almost screamed as an unfamiliar noise startled him.

“Hello?” Dean whispered under his breath as he grabs the keys to the back door out of his pocket. It might be a long shot but keys could still be used in self-defense and he was not going to get stabbed in the back of his own cafe.

“Anyone here?” He said, louder but the noise continued. Dean quickly found the loud noise from the alley, and curiosity got better on him. He slowly crept towards the noise and when he looked, a body stumbled in front of him. He screamed, ready to stab the body that fell to his feet but he stopped. Despite, having only the moonlight as a source of light, Dean could easily see. It was a man, who wore a dirty trench coat, an all-black suit and disheveled black hair covered in dirt and something sticky. Dean looked at everywhere but saw no one else except the man.

He kneeled down, pocketing his keys and looked at the man further.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Dean said, shaking the man by his collar but he only received painful groans. When Dean was about to reach for the man’s pockets, he stopped as he saw the blood, gushing out of the man’s stomach. Did he got mobbed? Dean needed to know but the man was losing so much blood in such little time. He needed help as soon as he could.

He patted the man’s shoulder, finding a shoulder holster but no guns. The guy might be some sort of cop.

“Alright, buddy. I’m calling you an ambulance.” Dean said, reaching into his back pocket but the man gripped his wristed in such strong grip, Dean flinched.

“No, ambulance.” The man painfully, moan.

“Sir, I don’t know what happened but you are seriously injured!” Dean replied, but it fell on deaf ears as the man passed out.

Dean sighed, heavily. Just god damn it.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel has never woken up with the smell of food in his entire life. It was either a gun or a knife but never food. He snapped his blue eyes, open and confused for a moment where he was. He wasn’t in the Continental or in a hospital. He was in a strange yet comfortable room. The bed was soft and had a scent of a man. The room walls had a litter of different band posters, a collection of CD’s and vinyl records and a strange lava lamp on the bedside. Castiel slowly sat up but flinched in pain. He laid his hand on his stomach and it was bandaged, neatly like it was done by a professional. He groaned, as he tried to sit up again but this time, he forced himself to succeed. He peeled off the blanket that covered him. He was no longer dressed in his suit and missing his signature dirty trench coat. He instead wore gray sweatpants and a black shirt with some sort of rock theme written in it.

He looked around at the bedside and found, a photo frame of two young men eating in a table happy with each other’s company.

Castiel slowly moved to the edge of the bed and laid his feet on the carpet floor. The room wasn’t exactly neat as he was used to. Some various mechanic magazines littered the floor, clothes overflowing in the hamper, a DVD player with a TV-screen wall, a vinyl player and books about mythical literature stacked in one corner.

Castiel was assured that the room belonged to a male with a manly taste that expected of men in his age that would be in the late twenties. Castiel slowly stands up but felt his knees going weak on him. He leaned on the walls as his breath hitched, he walked in slow pace towards the wooden door and opened it. But as he opened it, a man with bright green eyes, dirty blonde hair and just stunning eye candy features stopped his tracks. He grabbed the man’s collar in reflexes but the green-eyed man grabbed his wrist and Castiel found himself flung and slammed in the hallway floor.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! You..” The green-eyed man shouted as he knelt beside him. Castiel groaned, painfully holding the stomach wound he sustained. He felt like he was about to pass out but that counter move, the green-eyed man has done was impressive.

“I’m..okay,” Castiel said, groaning as he sat up.

“Shit, I’m just really sorry. I don’t know what comes over me. You just grabbed me by the collar and just. nothing!” The green-eyed man explained but Castiel was too busy staring at him. He wore a black V-collared shirt, a strange amulet hanged in his neck, tight blue jeans, and black timberland boots.

“Hello?!” The green-eyed man snapped his fingers in front of him. “Are you okay? Did I give you a concussion? Please tell me I didn’t.”

Castiel chuckled, as he scratched the back of his head. It ached but nothing was serious. His stomach wound seems to be okay. it hurt like a bitch but it wasn’t bleeding.

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied.

“Oh, thank god.” The green-eyed man, collapsed beside him, dramatically. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, and I am fine,” Castiel said as he raised his hand as a sign of surrender. “I’m unhurt.”

“I’m Dean.” Dean introduced himself with a handshake. “Found you behind my cafe.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. He didn’t remember ending up in an alley.

“You are?” Dean said, hand still raised. “You didn’t lose your memories, didn’t you? That would be so cliche, dude.”

Castiel hesitated but he shook Dean’s hand. They were rough calloused and strong from hard labor work.

“You got a name?” Dean said, as he stood up, and helped Castiel up. Castiel gripped Dean’s hand, tightly. Not willing to let it go first.

“Castiel,” Castiel replied, rather nervously.

“Like the Angel of Thursday?” Dean asked, his hand still gripped in Castiel.

Castiel’s jaw opened, slightly. He never met anyone that knew the meaning of his name. “You know your angels well. I presume you’re quite religious?”

Dean shook his head. “No, no! My uncle has these books about theology and it features different names of angels and even, demons too! I read it once and a while.”

Castiel nodded, and unconsciously looked at Dean’s hand still gripped unto his. They looked so perfect to each other but Castiel lets go of Dean’s hand. He didn’t like to touch someone as beautiful as Dean’s to someone as dirty as him.

“Sorry about that,” Dean said, wiping his hand nervously in his black shirt. “You hungry? I suspect you’d be. You're wound seems to healed up nice. You’ve been asleep for like three days.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Three?”

Dean nodded, as she waved Castiel to follow him. “Yup. I found you in the back of my cafe as I’ve told you. I was going to call for an ambulance but you refused. So, I dragged you here. Got you patched up, and changed your clothes.” Dean explained like it was a normal thing. “I’m making croissant, do you eat those?”

Castiel nodded.

“Good. That’s a start.” Dean said as they turned into stairs leading downstairs. Castiel slowly and step by step walked down, as he held the railings in a vicious grip. As he reached the bottom, Castiel’s eyes widened. It was no ordinary cafe, he used to see. The walls were painted with cozy colors of yellow, various black and white photographs of classic cars, bookshelves filled with different kinds of books in different sizes, different kinds of hanging plants, metal round tables with matching comfy seats, wooden floors and well-lighten lights that complimented the whole place. The smell that assaulted Castiel’s nostrils was almost divine. He watched as Dean walked in the black counter, that had different kinds of coffee beans, real tea leaves in different glass containers that were perfectly labeled and organized. Behind Dean was a chalkboard that was recently erased.

“Come on, have a seat.” Dean offered, as his hand pointed towards the empty counter. Castiel walked, slowly and he sat gently on the leather and wood bar stool. He looked to his left and found an empty display that pastries are supposed to be shown.

“It’s still pretty early and I just finished baking,” Dean said as he poured hot water in a coffee filter in a meticulous manner. The smell was just so captivating that with years eating in fancy restaurant hotel couldn’t compare.

“That smell so divine, Dean,” Castiel said as he leaned forward, looking at Dean’s craft further.

“I know right? It’s not always in the beans, Castiel.” Dean paused, winking at Castiel and continued to pour in a circular motion on the coffee bean filter. “Sometimes, it’s who make it.”

Castiel looked at Dean, confused. “It’s not the beans?”

Dean shook his head, as he pours the pot on the white plain coffee pot with a saucer underneath. “How would you like your coffee?”

Castiel stared for a bit, deciding. “How would you recommend it?”

Dean smiled, that almost sent Castiel falling over the barstool.

“As it is,” Dean replied as she placed the newly brewed coffee in front of Castiel. “Enjoy, Cas.”

Castiel stared at the cup, squinting his eyes and inhaling the divine scent that graced his nostrils. Coffee couldn’t be exactly this good as it smells.

Castiel slowly picked up by the handle, inhaled it’s smell again, lightly blew on it and took a small sip. Castiel moaned as the coffee slipped from his lips and just passed by his tongue and left a divine and remarkable taste.

That was the best coffee he has ever tasted in his life.

 

Dean’s laughter burst Castiel appreciation with Dean’s coffee. “I’d never seen someone took a sip of my coffee and have that kind of reaction.”

Castiel couldn’t help but blush. “I couldn’t help it. Your coffee was the best coffee I have tasted, Dean.”

Dean smiled, that gave Castiel butterflies in his stomach but he couldn’t help but notice the hint of pink on Dean’s ears. But a thought stopped Castiel’s happy thoughts about the green-eyed barista.

“Why did you saved me, Dean?” Castiel said, and follow up his question. “Are you not scared that I am sort of a criminal?”

Dean smile didn’t fade. “It’s not my place to judge but you looked liked you needed saving.”

Castiel stared, speechless.

Dean placed a plate of a croissant on the counter. “We all need saving, don’t we?”

Castiel slowly nodded as he looks deep into Dean’s bright green eyes. Castiel could tell Dean went through a lot in his life yet someone, he remained as kind as he is now. That was just remarkable but the longer Castiel stared at Dean, he felt like he was going to burn in such beautiful flame.

“Shit, it’s already seven-thirty?” Dean shouted, as he hastily grabbed his green apron and tied it around his waist. “I’ll be back after I display the pastries, okay? I’ll be open soon so eat up and maybe, I’ll let you hang around. How that sounds, Cas?”

Before Castiel could reply, Dean disappeared in the back. He quietly ate the croissant that tastes quite good. He watched as Dean hauled various type of pastries, danishes, bread, organic loaves, displayed them in the case and shelves. He brought out a boutique of yellow wildflowers, filled each small vases with water and decorated each table. And finally, Dean flipped the closed sign into open. Dean ran back to the back and came back with a fresh new green apron around his waist and he fixed his dirty blonde hair.

Castiel awkwardly, stared and followed Dean’s simply routine and walked back behind the counter, knelt down and jazz music blared around the cafe.

“It’s just formalities,” Dean commented but Castiel didn’t understand what he meant.

The bell ring of the door suddenly sounded and a woman with bouncy red hair, she wore harry potter shirt _Ravenclaw,_ skinny jeans and ankle boots walked in and she looked exhausted.

“Dean~!” She moaned Dean’s name like she was begging as she dragged her feet into the counter. She didn’t even give Castiel a glance as she slid Dean five dollar bill and exchange with a large coffee cup.

She took a slow sip, savored it and groaned. “If you didn’t have a dick, Dean. I’d marry you.”

Dean laughed, as he grabbed a croissant and slid the plate towards her. She bit chewed and swallowed the croissant slowly, before wiping the tears in the corner of her eyes.

“God bless you, Dean Winchester.” She said, as she finally took a seat beside Castiel.

“You’re welcome too, Charlie,” Dean replied, amused. “And always on time, aren’t you kid? How’s college treating you?”

Charlie groaned, loudly banging her head on the counter. “My professor is being an ass, Deaaan~!”

Dean chuckled, patting Charlie’s head. “One more year, kid. One more year.”

Castiel couldn’t comment or say a word. He just felt odd being around them. They felt so peaceful and normal that made Castiel hungry for it.

“So, who’s he? Did someone finally beat my record? I thought for a second, Greta was going to be here first!”

Charlie pointed at Castiel, rather rudely for Castiel’s taste but Dean simply waved his hand.

“Leave him alone, Charlie. He doesn’t want any trouble.”

Charlie squinted her eyes towards Castiel’s blue eyes like she was trying to threaten him but no avail.

“I’m Charlie. Got any name, mister?” Charlie said,

“Hey,..uhm… I’m Castiel.” Castiel replied, awkwardly and extended his hand that Charlie quickly gripped, tight but not tight enough for Castiel to actually feel.

“If you do anything to hurt my favorite barista. I will hunt you down, hack you to bankruptcy and expose you.” Charlie said, threatening before letting Castiel’s hand go.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Hack me?”

“Charlie! Don’t go threatening anyone!” Dean swatted Charlie’s hand away. “It’s rude! And don’t you have a class to attend to?”

Charlie looked at her clock, it was almost eight thirty. “Oh, fuck! I’m late!” She quickly ran out of Dean’s cafe.

“Sorry about that.” Dean apologizes. “She’s a little protective because as she proclaimed I made the best coffee that helped her go through college exams.”

Castiel chuckled. “Hack?”

Dean nodded. “Oh, she might look like she’s harmless but she was able to hack on this one professor who sexually harassed her girlfriend Greta. Let’s just say the professor, won’t be able to recover from that fatal blow to his credit and bank.”

“Oh.”

“So, about your clothes.” Dean started and that caught Castiel’s full attention. “I wasn’t about to get the blood off your suit so, I had to get rid of it. But I was able to save your trench coat.”

“Did you perhaps found a phone?” Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t find any phones.”

“Oh, I see.” Castiel fell in silence.

“If you want to leave, it’s okay. But know that my door is open for you, Castiel.” Dean said with a smile as she refilled Castiel’s coffee cup.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

“You’re welcome, Cas,” Dean replied.Dean made Castiel change his clothes. He let him wore black long sleeves, blue jeans and shoes that fit Castiel’s feet. Castiel wore his dirty trench coat over his clothes and was ready to leave but Dean stopped him.

“Cas, here. I don’t want you to leave without taking some of my pastries.” Dean offered, a brown bag with the logo of his cafe. _Zeppelin_

“Thank you, Dean but I can’t pay for these. I’ve already caused enough trouble.” Castiel refused but Dean grabbed his hand and forced him to take the pastry bag.

“Nonsense, Cas!” Dean shouted, “How about you visit me once a while and consider your debt to be paid? You look like you’re a guy, would agree with that.”

“Do I get to say no?”

Dean shook his hand. “Nope.”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile as he let goes of Dean’s hand. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Dean replied, as he waved at him and comes back inside the cafe as customers filled the place.

Castiel sighed, as he gripped the pastry bag tighter. He walked cautiously around civilians and into a bank that belongs to the Continental facilities. He stopped by the teller and stared at her. As she looked up, Castiel immediately noticed how she nervously swallowed and slowly, nodded and asked him to follow her in the back.

She lends him deep in the vaults where an array of metal deposit cases filled the whole room. She pulled out a key around her neck and put it inside a numbered deposit box. She opened it and grabbed a long metal container and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. She left him in the room alone and closed the door. Castiel placed the pastry bag beside the metal container. He opened it, revealing a black leather suitcase with a red velvet interior that has a small container for his gold coins, an extra black suit that was inside a vacuum sealed pack and two handguns and a shoulder holster. Castiel counted the gold coins that have a grand total of fifty coins. Castiel quickly got dressed, changing into his suit and trench coat, hoisted his guns and stuffed Dean’s clothes and shoes in the vacuum seal pack put them back in the black leather case. He grabbed three out of fifty gold coins and pocket it. He closed his metal container and shoved it back on the shelves. He grabbed the pastry bag and left the vault. He handed the teller with a single gold coin and walked away.

He took the train and arrived at the Continental hotel within an hour. The guard opened the door for him and greeted him, with a courteous nod. Castiel walked towards the receptionist.

“Indra,” Castiel said as he slipped not one but two gold coins.

“Mr. Castiel.” Indra greeted. “How may I help you today?”

“I’d like Gabriel’s audience if you may,” Castiel asked, politely that made Indra paused for a moment before he pressed buttons on his telephone.

“Hello, sir. Mr. Castiel would like your audience today.”  Indra said as he stared at Castiel.

There was a brief pause before Indra spoke again. “I understand, sir. I shall inform him.”

Indra hung up and looked back at Castiel. “Mr. Gabriel would be glad for your audience today, Mr. Castiel but he insists you’d wait in the balcony.” Indra slid a black card towards Castiel. “He said, he had a rough night and fresh air would be lovely.”

“I see,” Castiel replied as he grabs the black card. “Thank you, Indra.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Castiel.”

Castiel quickly headed towards the elevator and swiped the black card in the screen. The elevator quickly closed and headed towards its destination. The door pinged opened, revealing a clubhouse with a spacious balcony that had a small garden of flowers that has a view of all New York’s skyscrapers. Castiel slowly walked towards the outdoor table with a rainbow-colored beach umbrella.  As he walked closer, he found a familiar mop of golden hair that didn’t know what direction it was going.

“Take a seat, Cassie,” Gabriel said as he took a sip of what it seems to be coffee. “Also, lower your voice. My head is trying to eat itself.”

Gabriel’s tired golden eyes stared at him for a moment. His handsome features were enough to woo a powerful Indian criminal family into having a unified amity with him despite, his proclamation about his height. He wore a black silk robe, black boxer briefs, and bunny slippers. He did look like he had a rough night.

“Gabriel.” Castiel greeted, as she placed his case beside his chair and sat down, cradling the pastry bag in his lap.

“Oh, you’ve got me pastries!” Gabriel said, as he tried his hand on the pastry bag but Castiel swatted in defense.

“It’s not for you, Gabriel. It’s mine.” Castiel replied as he grabs the bag defensively.

“Geez, Cassie. Sorry tried doesn’t have to be so defensive about it.” Gabriel said, with a pout. “Can’t I have at least a piece?”

“No,” Castiel said he grabs the pastry bag away from Gabriel. “Not a piece.”  

“Fine. Then, I refuse to talk! Whatever, you want to talk. Don’t care how important it is.” Gabriel crossed his hands over his chest.

“Don’t be a child, Gabriel,” Castiel warned but Gabriel simply avoided his gaze.

Castiel gave up, with a groan. “Fine, just one piece.”

“Yes!” Gabriel shouted but governed, loudly nursing his head. “No more, tequila..”

Castiel scoffed, handing Gabriel a swirly bread with white sugar on top. “Is this okay?”

“Cinnamon bun? Yes, please!” Gabriel said, as he quickly grabbed the cinnamon bun and took a bite. Castiel watched as he chewed and swallowed the bun.

“What the fuck?” Gabriel looked at Castiel like he was God. “Where the fuck did you find these?”

“UHm, what?”

“Cassie! This is the best cinnamon bun ever!” Gabriel proclaimed and devoured the whole thing within seconds.

“You’re welcome.” Castiel sarcastically replied. He watched Gabriel settle down his nerves and emptied his coffee before speaking again but Gabriel shushed him with one finger.

“You’ve come here for business?” Gabriel asked.

“Sort of,” Castiel replied.

“You know, you’re illegal to conduct business on the Continental grounds, Cassie. Do I have to remind it to you?”

Castiel stared at Gabriel. “No, but I am here just to ask you a question.”

“What would you like to ask me, Cassie?” Gabriel said, crossing his legs. “That’s quite new even for you.”  

Castiel took a deep breath. “I thought, I’d want to leave this life, Gabriel.”

Gabriel looked at Castiel like he was insane. He dropped the happy go lucky facade and frowned, deeply.

“Are you mad?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Is this about a woman? Or was it a man?” Gabriel asked but Castiel said nothing.

“Michael will kill you, Castiel,” Gabriel said as he ran his hands on his golden hair. “Or Lucifer and Raphael are on the plate too.”  

“I am aware of the tension between your brothers, Gabriel but I am not included with them.”

“Yes, but you are living in the world where the two of them rule over,” Gabriel said, as pinched the bridge of his nose. “To be honest, Cassie. I’d allow you to leave this wretched world you are into but not so much a pinky in this place. You’d be dragged back. Do you understand that?”

Castiel nodded. “I understand that.”

Gabriel looked at him in the eyes. “Between you and me, Castiel.  After all these years you’ve worked, what did you find that made you want to leave?”

“I want to live a normal life for once, Gabriel. I’ve been doing this since I could stab a man. I want to take a chance to be normal.”

Gabriel took a deep breath. “You fall that hard, didn’t you? To even, consider leaving...”

Castiel said nothing but his silence was enough for Gabriel.

“No one will give your freedom, Castiel. You must take it. Make a deal to someone in the High Table. The best chance you’ll get is to retire and that will cost you more than a leg and an arm.”

Castiel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’ll advise you to give it more than just a thought. Whether you’d like it or not, you’ve buried enough bodies that laid foundations to some empires, Castiel. They won’t just let you leave. Sure, you can leave this world but their fangs and arms will yank you down and get you back. Death is the only thing that would release you completely. Mark my words, Castiel..”

Gabriel stood up, tighten his robe and grab the empty coffee cup. “Thanks for the cinnamon bun, Cassiel but I’d like my beauty sleep right now.”

Castiel nodded, grabbed his suitcase and pastry bag, and followed Gabriel towards the elevator. He stepped into the elevator.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.”

“See you soon, little brother.”  

 

**CHAPTER END**

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily based on JW verse but the main plot doesn't follow John Wick's story.  
> I wanted Dean to be like Wick at first but it got all tangled up to be honest.  
> I do this for fun so updates will be slow.  
> Also looking for a beta. 
> 
> Hope you'd enjoy and suffer the lack of updates.  
> HOHO


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